


Hold Me Close

by TheCarrot



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: BAMF Clint Barton, Cuddly Clint, Cuddly Natasha, F/M, Gen, Hurt Steve Rogers, Hurt/Comfort, Hydra goons are terrible people, JARVIS is sneaky, M/M, Mentions of Drowning, Multi, Naked Cuddling, Nightmares, Sleeping Together, Sleepy Cuddles, Spies don't take shit from sleepy billionaires, Tony Stark Cuddles, cuddling for warmth, go the fuck to sleep - Freeform, i'm glad that's a tag, shameless Sammy L Jackson reference, will eventually be OTP-6
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2016-05-24
Packaged: 2018-06-10 04:18:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6939304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCarrot/pseuds/TheCarrot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Lay the hell down Tony, before you fall over.” Natasha growls.</p>
<p>Twilight Zone. Tony’s sure of it now. Yup, they’ve officially entered it now. </p>
<p>Tony eyes his bed and the two assassins in it before looking over at the chaise lounge Pepper’s moved into his room without him noticing before he suddenly hears Clint grumble under his breath about stubborn scientists.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Tony’s not quiet sure how long he’s been awake, knows it’s less than four days…but not by much if the gritty feeling around his eyes and the amount of oil on his clothes are anything to go by. It’s only the feel of hands on his arms spinning him around in his chair that jolt him to any sort of consciousness. The feel of a wet cloth being rubbed over his face helps too. 

Sputtering Tony snags the cloth away from his face, even though he was enjoying the feel of the warm water someone had been rubbing over his skin. Blinking widely Tony looks over at Clint who is crouched down in front of his chair with a worried look on his face. “Barton.” Tony greets.

“How long have you been down here?” The voice is Natasha’s and Tony startles when it comes from directly behind him. He turns to look at the red head over his shoulder with a glare and it’s enough of a distraction that Clint is able to snag the wash cloth again and get back to rubbing at the oil encrusted on Tony’s cheek. 

Tony frowns at the action but decides that its too much effort to knock Clint away again. “Not that long.” The inventor huffs even though he knows it might have been a little too long this time. 

“Jarvis?”

Clint is a little traitor, Tony thinks to himself as the AI calmly informs them that Sir has been awake for nearing on seventy six hours with very little interruption for food and drink. “Traitor.” Tony mutters up at his ceiling deciding the title is better suited to his computer. 

“Thank you Jarvis.” Clint chuckles moving the cloth to the table as he finishes wiping the last of the grime off of Tony’s hands. “Come on Stark, time for all little mad scientist to go to bed.” 

Tony glares mutely at the archer but before he can say anything another pair of hands, smaller but no less deadly are helping Clint haul him to his feet and Tony can feel the room lurch around him. When he opens his eyes moments later he can feel both of the assassins keeping him upright as they start to haul him out of his workshop. 

“Lock it down for us J?” Clint asks and Tony expects the AI to scoff at his request but instead the door clicks shut behind the three of them while the walls turn to their opaque white and the lock beeps red. Jaw hanging open at Jarvis’ easy compliance Tony turns to look at Clint but the archer is already leading the three of them towards the elevator. 

“Dunno why you need an elevator here.” Clint huffs looking around at the newly rebuilt Malibu mansion. The layout is completely different but Tony has his vices and while he had included stairs in the blue prints, there was something to be said for the easy drop off of an elevator. 

He must have been speaking aloud because Natasha snorts, her breath hot against his ear as she manoeuvres the genius out of the elevator and towards the door to his bedroom. Tony expects it to be locked but is annoyed at his lack of surprise when Clint merely flicks his wrist over the lock and has it open within seconds. He’s going to have to have a word with his contractors. Lousy spies. 

Once they’re inside the door both Clint and Natasha stop hauling him around and let Tony try to stand on his own but quickly retake their places when he stumbles again. Ignoring the grumbling of the genius between them Natasha meets Clints eyes over Tony’s head and the two exchange nods. Clint takes Tony’s weight for a moment as Natasha rummages around the floor for any clean article of clothing. 

“Come on, get this off,” Clint orders as he latches onto the hem of Tony’s long sleeved shirt and tries to haul it over his head. Tony to his credit, squawks loudly in protest before flushing a bit around his ears at his own reaction. He thinks he must be really over tired if he’s reacting that weirdly to two of the hottest people he knows trying to take off his clothes. 

“Calm down Tony,” Natasha sighs taking the stained shirt from Clint and tossing it onto the floor without a care before helping her friend get the clean one over the wiggling body of the billionaire between them. “You move more than Clint does when he’s drunk. It’s time for bed.”

Clint, in the true manner of adults everywhere, sticks his tongue out at her in retaliation and Tony…well Tony thinks he must be dreaming; that he’s asleep in his lab right now because this is some serious Twilight Zone shit happening in his room right now. He can feel his body slowly sagging in exhaustion as Clint hauls him bodily over towards the king sized bed against the wall. Outside the sky is dark and the ocean is still but Tony barely pays it any mind as Natasha crawls up onto his bed, kicking her boots off in the process, to turn down the corner of the made bed. 

Cocking his head to the side Tony feels Clint let go of him as well so the archer can climb up next to the Russian spy and curl around her. Natasha doesn’t shove him away like Tony was expecting her too, instead loops an arm around Clints to tug him closer. However when Tony doesn’t move to join them she glares down the length of the bed at him. “Lay the hell down Tony, before you fall over.” She growls.

Twilight Zone. Tony’s sure of it now. Yup, they’ve officially entered it now. 

Tony eyes his bed and the two assassins in it before looking over at the chaise lounge Pepper’s moved into his room without him noticing before he suddenly hears Clint grumble under his breath about stubborn scientists. Without warning, Clint lashes out with his foot, hauling Tony into the minuscule space between him and Natasha on his bed. Natasha, for her sake, doesn’t even object; just lets go of Clint and shifts slightly so she can wrap an arm around Tony’s chest just under where the arc reactor had been. She lets her head rest on his shoulder in the facsimile of a hug, unlike Clint who Tony thinks is taking after an octopus the way he’s wrapping himself around both of them.

“No shoes in bed.” Natasha mutters.

Tony opens his mouth to object but a sharp poke in his side, he’s not sure who it’s from though, has him wiggling around so he can kick off both shoes without dislodging the two human heaters beside him. 

Clint huffs in amusement, snaking his hand out and before Tony can yelp too loudly, rids the genius of his belt, tossing it onto the floor near his shirt. “Just go to sleep Tony.” He’s already letting his hand curl back over to Nat as she pulls up the duvet over them.

He’s still not sure what’s happening and Tony thinks of why it’s been almost four days since he slept. He thinks its going to be a bad idea if he wakes either of them up with his nightmares. In fact, he’s just about to say so when Natasha opens one eye to glare at him. “Shut up and go the fuck to sleep Stark.” She whispers, her tone no nonsense and not accepting anything other than compliance. 

Tony huffs a slightly hysterical laugh under his breath and closes his eyes. He can already feel sleep pulling at him. Besides if anyone knows about nightmares, it’s Clint and Natasha…he feels… almost safe? Tony thinks he might actually get…some…sleep…

\---

Sunlight streams into his room thanks to the large bay windows overlooking the ocean. It’s why Tony loves Malibu so much. That, and the fact that there’s In and Out’s all over. Which, he thinks oddly, must be what woken him. 

Blinking sluggishly Tony peels his face away from the amazingly comfortable thigh it was resting on and looks up to see Clint working on some paperwork above him. “izzat…pan-akes?” he hasn’t had coffee yet, hasn’t had any in days; he can’t be held accountable for the indistinguishable gibberish coming from his mouth.

A fork appears out of the corner of Tony’s eye and Clint, without even looking away from his paper work, opens his mouth to eat the section of pancake Natasha’s holding out for him. Brown eyes narrow and Tony glances blearily over his shoulder at the red head sitting up behind him. He’s about to ask where his piece is but the spy is already holding out a much larger piece to him and he takes it without hesitation.

Tony chews it thoughtfully as he falls over onto his back so he can glance between the two agents. “How long did I sleep?” His body feels fuzzy, like he’s slept for-

“Thirteen hours and forty minutes.” Jarvis replies above him and Tony twitches in shock. 

Clint and Natasha smirk at each other, fist bumping over Tony’s head. “No nightmare gets past us, right Nat?” 

“Damn straight.” Natasha grins leaning over to ruffle Tony’s hair and the genius has never felt more safe and more in danger from one simple action. Figures all it would take to keep his nightmares at bay is two of the worlds scariest motherfuckers.

“Is this a thing now?” Tony grumbles hiding his face in his arms as Natasha shoves another piece of pancake into him. 

“Maybe, if you need it to be.” Clint shrugs like it’s the easiest thing in the world. “We all have nights where we can’t sleep.”

“Even if you do kick in your sleep,” Natasha tacks on ignoring Clints pointed look before eating a piece of pancake herself and looking down at Tony who’s still hiding his face. “If you need us to be beside you so you can rest then just call us.”

Tony just hauls his pillow over his face trying to cover up the blush that’s creeping up the back of his neck and all over his ears. 

Stupid Spies.

Tony thinks he hasn’t been this grateful for something in a long while.   
\--


	2. Going Under

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha’s shout follows Clints, but the horrifyingly intimate sound Steve had hoped to never hear again drowns her voice out. 
> 
> The sound of ice crackling under him.

The last thing Steve remembers is Clint screaming his name, the sound echoing over the comm in his ear and across the snowy, barren landscape around them. His name reverberates through his own bones letting the panic and fear Clint never shows pierce right into the centre of his chest. Steve feels thick muscular arms wrap around him as the last remaining Hydra thug tackles him dragging both of them further out onto what Steve’s just now realising is a barely frozen Siberian lake. 

Natasha’s shout follows Clints, but the horrifyingly intimate sound Steve had hoped to never hear again drowns her voice out. 

The sound of ice crackling under him.

The super soldier barely has time to feel the rushing sensation of panic **horror** deja-vu-ohdeargod _notagain_ before the hydra goon disappears into the black depths of the lake, his hands clawing for purchase they don’t find. Steve throws himself sideways but the ice under his feet is already gone and he’s falling, falling… sinking… he’s so lost in his own overwhelming panic that he barely registers the rush of cold against his skin and black takes over his vision.

He can’t breathe.

Ice.

**Oh God.**

Cold.

_Peggy?_

\--

Steve wakes with a muffled gasp, months of trying not to wake others on missions with his nightmares. Only instead of the cold that usually follows one of those dreams, Steve dimly registers that he’s warm. 

Warm and comfortable and there are arms…and…legs wrapped all around him. 

Blue eyes blink open and Steve mentally curses the nightmare of ice and water and drowning, but he pauses because something’s different. He thinks it might be the fact that he’s greeted by red hair tucked under his chin on his right that might be different. Plus there’s a shivering mass wrapped around his middle that seems to be attached to a head of damp sandy blonde hair tucked under his left arm. 

“C-Clint?” Steve’s voice is hoarse and it feels like he’s been screaming. Was he screaming? “Na`asha?”

Beside him Natasha, who had propped herself up on one elbow on his chest when he opened his eyes, leans in a bit closer so she can meet his eyes. “Well, you finally woke up.” Her smirk is more of a grimace and Steve wants to hurt whoever made her look that way.

Clint in way of answer, merely hisses when the dozen or so blankets piled on top of them slide down, letting in a cool draft. Natasha merely smiles down at the archer before she draws them back up so they’re covering her friend up to his ears. Hawkeye sends her a grateful grunt and snuggles closer to heat Steve is giving off.

It’s at that point that Steve realises just how little each of them are wearing under the blankets and he can’t help the way his face heats up. 

“Um…weren’t we, just in the middle…of a fight?” He’s annoyed at the way he’s a bit breathless still and he takes a moment to look around. The three of them are bundled up on the floor of a cabin Steve’s sure doesn’t exist on any map or tax form and there’s a large fire roaring next to them in the decrepit fireplace. 

Natasha’s watching him, her grey eyes searching his face for a moment before letting her chin rest on his bare chest like she doesn’t give two damns that they’re all stark naked and cuddling. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

Steve blinks up at her and has to think for a moment before the memories rush back to him. “Fighting? And then that Hydra goon…the ground-” he freezes, blue eyes going wide. It takes him a minute before he can even dare to say the words. “The Ice…I..I went under.” Natasha nods. “…How long?”

“A couple of minutes.” Her reply is immediate and it feels like reassurance for them both.

At Steve’s shocked look Natasha cocks her head at her blanket swamped partner. “Clint dove in right after you.” 

She doesn’t mention the way her own lungs and heart had frozen as she stood by herself on the shore surrounded by snow and fallen agents waiting for them to come back up. 

Hoping they came back up.

Two minutes can feel like a lifetime. 

Steve tenses, his grip tightening on the shivering man next to him and he spreads his hand out along Clint’s back, feeling the cold skin there. Clint mewls and sinks further into the motion and the heat, curling impossibly closer to the other man.

“You were unresponsive when he dragged you up so we brought you here,” Natasha continues. “By that time both of you were starting to show signs of hypothermia and well,” She flashes him a wry grin and he can’t help returning it even though the lost look doesn’t leave his eyes. “Naked cuddling abound, as Stark would say.” 

That startles a laugh out of Steve, and even Clint snickers against his chest, his cool breath tickling Steve’s warmer skin. “Not that I mind th` naked cuddlin` and all, but please don’t fall’n again an’time soon.” Clint’s voice is still quaky. That water had been cold dammit.

Wide blue eyes close and Steve holds the archer closer, in thanks and because the idea of falling in again, scares the living hell out of him. He presses his forehead to the crown of Clints head and sighs heavily. “I’ll do my best.” Steve promises

Silence settles into the room, the crackle of the fire and the cold wind outside the only interruption for a good long while. It’s only when Steve can feel the pressing weight of Natasha’s eyes on the back of his head that he drags his attention out of his own head. Looking away from Clint’s head he raises an eyebrow up at the spy silently asking her what she’s thinking.

“You might go under again you know.” Nat states looking down into his eyes. “But you know…if you do. One of us will be there to dive in after you. No matter how long it takes.”

Steve’s silence is stunned and under the mound of blankets Clint gives a noise of agreement and he can only smile back at the two people he was lucky enough to be teamed up with. “Thank you.”

Maybe he doesn’t have to mention now that if either of them went under first, Steve would go in after them without a second thought.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. There might be more chapters later on with the other avengers. This originally was a story about Clint and Natasha cuddling each of the Avengers but it died and became something else...with feels. D: I like stories where Natasha and Clint are BAMF's but also like being close with their teammates.


End file.
